I'm wondering how Mr Goodwin is feeling at the moment. Not as bad as I would hope I suspect. He was a greedy little man with no social or public conscience. He no doubt gambled that reducing the size of his pension would close the matter and the fact that it didn't he'll just put down to miscalculation. A small mistake. Nothing more than that. It is so interesting that there has been quite a backlash against the removal of his knighthood. Was he being made a scape goat? No, but it was certainly a symbolic gesture...and that's something that every person who has lost their livelihood either directly or indirectly needs. The fact that The City is bleating really only goes to prove how out of touch it is with the world outside its own little bubble and the general sentiment of people who have had to live with the worries of recession for four years now. I understand an honours system that rewards public service, I almost understand an honours system that rewards for success outside of public service, but anything other than that is beyond me completely. I'd like to see every honour that's been awarded to a banker in that last ten years reviewed, but that would be too much. I'd also like to see Mr Goodwin redeem himself and devote the rest of his life to public or charitable service. But I don't think he will...he's just a greedy little man and I doubt it would occur to him to make that journey. Interestingly David Cameron is missing a massive trick here - if he was as bright as he thinks he is he could gain much public sympathy by taking it as an opportunity to remind The City that it was in large part their fault that we are all under the economic cosh now, that it needs to be a valuable and supportive part of the wider UK economy as a whole and that he is defending The City from European tax threats. He'd certainly garner wide spread support.
I was reading today about James Hewitt....I was interested in seeing that Prince Harry says that his Grandmother can't manage without her Prince Charming...and got distracted by Googling 'Prince Harry's Father' when I should have been working. It was just an idle moment as I don't care one way or the other. Anyway nothing much new on that front, but I did find a quote where Hewitt says "I probably owe my life to my mother". Really??
I'm a bad man. Very bad indeed. Just before Christmas I was approached by the PR folks at Sea-Band who asked if we'd like to test their bands. These things provide "Effective relief of motion sickness, morning sickness and cancer nausea and vomiting, Sea-Band provides a drug free choice without causing drowsiness or other side effects." They claim. Now when I was a lad, I had to take a really bitter little pill - I suspect that it worked on the principle that you became so focused on the horrible taste that you forgot about feeling sick. As a baby, The Boy was terrible - I remember well one journey to Grandma in Cyprus Not in Cyprus when he managed to throw up more than half a dozen times before we'd reached the end of the road. On another occasion he managed to redecorate the inside of a brand new car (just 12 miles on the clock) which I'd hired for a weekend. Fortunately we're all over that now, but The Muffins are Puketastic. They can't even manage a simple tube journey without turning green. So I took up the offer and then gave them to the girls. Remarkably they work. I've no idea how or why, but they do. We are no longer Vom Central when we travel together and that makes everyone happy bunnies. It will make us all jolly smiley when we head off skiing in a couple of weeks...and the other passengers around us just won't realise how lucky they are. I'd completely forgotten about them, so feel a little guilty...but that has nothing to do with me wholeheartedly recommending them for anyone who gets queasy enroute from AtoB.
Tomorrow, The Boy is off on a school trip down to Devon. As usual with school trips we have to be there at a ridiculously early time. In this case 5.50. I'll be cold and tired and grumpy. He'll be all excited and enthusiastic. Such is the beauty of youth. Rather than return home, I'll head on into the office. Around here I'll be lucky to find a coffee shop open at that time, so I expect to be found when everyone else arrives at 9, sound asleep snoring with my head on my desk.
